


your strange addiction

by sadie18



Series: business unfinished [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Muggle, Assassins & Hitmen, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, F/F, Flirting, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Organized Crime, Pining, Seduction, clothing fixation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 14:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20047657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sadie18/pseuds/sadie18
Summary: ginny's assignment was to assassinate pansy parkinson.things didn't go to plan-alternatively, ginny had one job- pansy threw a wrench into her plans effortlessly





	your strange addiction

**Author's Note:**

> chat with me on tumblr @oliivverwood xo

_"I have a job for you." Harry called, his voice tinny and quiet on the burner phone. _

_Ginny had been waiting for further instructions in a crappy motel on the outskirts of Nice, France, the room reeking of old cigarettes and her own cinnamon perfume. When she was stuck in places like this, she wondered if the jobs were worth it. _

_"2,000 pounds."_

_Ginny smiled. Now_ these_ jobs, they__ were _worth_ it. _

_"Her name is Pansy Parkinson. She's an heiress- her father is a drug lord in Paris. He's been operating for around a decade. He's sick."_

_"Oh?" Ginny hummed, inspecting her nail polish. Chipped green. She'd need to get them done soon. _

_"She's taking over the family business soon. The Greengrasses want her dead. I'll be sending you her information shortly."_

_"Cheers." Ginny murmured, and with that, Harry hung up._

* * *

There was a heatwave in France, Ginny had been disgusted to learn. 

The air was humid, and the people she bumped into and touched on the street were sticky with sweat. The sun beat down, hot and unyielding, but strangers around her kept moving on excitedly.

Summer was the perfect time to do a job in Paris, she understood. Too many tourists, too many bustling crowds. It was easy to be invisible. 

Ginny liked disguises. She liked having different faces, never recognisable. And she liked looking good. 

However, she hadn't liked the outfit Harry had picked for her, this time. It was a garish blue Hawaiian shirt, and cutoff denims with white sneakers. A khaki-coloured fanny pack and round rimmed, reflective sunglasses to finish. It was ugly. Ginny didn't do ugly. 

This outfit was a long way away from that _beautiful _emerald evening gown that she wore to the gala where she assassinated corrupt politician Cornelius Fudge. It had been a sloppy kill, in an empty men's bathroom, and she'd gotten a bit of blood on her heels, but the memory of the evening put a smirk on her face. Men were so _easy _to seduce, so easy to understand, so easy to _kill. _

Today, she would just watch. She'd learn about Pansy Parkinson, how she walked, how she talked, how she carried herself.

Ginny found Pansy in a busy courtyard, where the latter was drinking and reading alone. Ginny placed herself on the elegantly designed balcony overlooking it, drowning out the sounds of polite chatter and tinkling laughter from the people around her. She held her own magazine, a Vogue issue that was probably about a decade old, feigning interest, and she ordered an Irish coffee.

_'Goodbye to Berlin', _the cover of her book read. A classic tale of schmooze and scandal. Ginny smiled- Pansy probably fancied herself a Sally Bowles. 

She was just as beautiful as in the photo Harry had given her, Ginny noted. Pansy had her black hair in a smooth, sleek bob and trendy bangs. She was tall, long legged and limber, small waist and smooth, pale skin. Her eyes were covered by small-lensed, red tinted sunglasses. In her left hand, she held a cigarette, the smoke drifting loftily into the air. If Ginny could describe her manner in a few words, it would be elegant, poised and _cold. _No doubt it was years of elite socialite training.

Pansy sipped what looked to be a Long Island iced tea from her straw, pursing her lips as to not disturb her shiny lip gloss and taking a long drag. Her tongue poked out to catch a drop on the corner of her mouth. She crossed her legs, ladylike in her small red pencil skirt, her white heels clicking together. When she leaned forward, Ginny could just see the edges of a lacy black bralette under her flowy, long sleeved top, the two top buttons undone. Her earrings, thick, golden hoops dangled and swayed hypnotically. 

Ginny shook her head, cursing herself lightly. She was not here to fixate. She was here to _learn. _

* * *

_Target Information: _

_Pansy Antoinette Parkinson, aged 23, female. _ _Daughter to Claude Parkinson, aged 63, and his fourth and current wife, Esme Parkinson (nee Flint), aged 31. No known siblings. British and French passports. Fluent in English, French, Spanish and Italian. Heiress to the Parkinson fortune. Suspected of taking over the ill Claude Parkinson's drug empire (specialising in cocaine). Wanted **dead** by Daphne and Astoria Greengrass, under confidential reasoning and circumstances. _

_Assignment Details:_

_The job will take place in Paris, at a prestigious dinner-dance event in the Louvre, held by museum owner Blaise Giovanni Zabini. Discretion is advised. Pansy Parkinson will be attending with a plus one, suspected to be either Draco Lucius Malfoy or Theodore Blake Nott. Await further instructions from handlers._

_Assigned to:_

_Ginevra Molly Weasley_

_Handler:_

_Harry James Potter_

* * *

The dress that had been provided to Ginny for the gala, set to be two days after her day of watching Pansy Parkinson, was stunning. It might've been Ginny's most expensive gown yet. She doubted Harry had picked it himself. 

She clicked her nails together, now red, as she inspected it. It was a deep navy blue, with thick straps and a plunging neckline. It was a mermaid fit, that would hug her slim, athletic figure to every curve, and had a long slit up the left side. The material was silky smooth. It was beautiful, yes, but at the event at the Louvre, other gowns would be leagues above it. It made her invisible. It was perfect. 

She had already been given details on exactly how the kill would play out. Pansy would move to a secluded area outdoors, where she would smoke privately. Ginny would join her, putting up an an aloof act. Then she'd take a knife to an artery, and Pansy would bleed to death in mere minutes. 

Ginny had thought a lot about Pansy, since watching her from that spot on the balcony. She'd pondered it at another cafe, near the Eiffel tower, where she'd had to elbow and shove to get a table to herself, outside so she could bum a cig. 

Pansy was one of Ginny's most interesting targets yet. Sure, Zach Smith had been alluring, with his playboy front and his tragic past, and Cho Chang had certainly been a good lay before she was shockingly found poisoned in her hotel room. But they'd been nothing but fleeting thoughts in Ginny's head since then, mere memories of how easy they'd been.

Pansy was also Ginny's most expensive target. She knew she couldn't let this one slip away- she never had. Ginny had succeeded with every assignment that had ever been given to her, from her very first rookie job on Cormac McLaggen to her most recent one on Bellatrix Lestrange. She had a 100% success rate. She planned on keeping it that way.

* * *

A Parisian evening _was _very romantic, Ginny would give it that. The street lamps and restaurant fronts were lit dreamily, and she spotted multiple couples, seeming sickeningly in love, interlocked hands and lips all over the city. It was warm out, the moisture in the air being a constant reminder of the summertime season.

It was glimpses into the lives of others that sometimes broke through Ginny's carefully built guard. She wondered if this was a life she wanted to live for the rest of her life, always on the go, living assignment to assignment. She felt no remorse in murder- after all, most of her victims were cruel people themselves, better off dead than alive. But when she saw a couple smiling together over a table, or an old couple out for a stroll on the Seine, Ginny didn't feel too sure that she'd ever have a settled life. 

She pinched herself.

This was her job. She did it well. She was _powerful_.

As Ginny made her way to the Louvre, her dress swishing around the ankles, and catching men and women alike eyeing up the slit of the skirt, she was easily able to ignore those messy ideas of a boring future. She was young, talented, and sought after. There was no room for such notions like _doubt._

The Louvre was just as magnificent as Ginny remembered it being- the last time she was there was to watch Fleur Delacour before finishing a job. She took a deep breath before entering, letting the heavy city air flow into her lungs, and then she exhaled. 

Ginny entered the building with a smile.

* * *

15 minutes later, Ginny saw her.

Pansy's arm was delicately curled around the arm of Theodore Blake Nott, a name Ginny recognized from the assignment details she'd read over obsessively. He was handsome in the most classic sense, jet black hair combed nice and neat; a pale, chiselled face, inset with cold eyes; his suit fit him well, obviously expensive and tailored to a tee. 

It was almost if Ginny barely saw him, though- not when _she _was on his arm. 

Pansy's gown was slim fitting with a slit on _both _sides of the dress, revealing the legs that went on for miles. She looked like a million dollars, and probably cost as much too, with the sparkling gold jewellery adorning her neck, her wrists, her ears. In her free hand, she held a flute of champagne, yet she hadn't taken a single sip. She was unfocused on the conversation her date and another pretentious looking man were having, instead looking around the room, looking for _something. _

Or _someone. _

She caught Ginny's eye. Ginny held her gaze for a few seconds before casually dropping it, a good facade for someone with their heart in their _throat. _And really, Ginny shouldn't be feeling nerves- it was unbecoming and unprofessional. This was far from the hardest task she'd ever have to execute and being anxious would _certainly_ affect her performance. 

No, it just wouldn't do. Her fingers were itching to reach for the champagne being brought around by waiters. She couldn't. She needed all her senses intact, for jobs. 

She avoided the eyes and conversations with guests, needing to blend in as much as possible. Ginny made herself look bored, aloof in the same manner most of the other guests were holding themselves. 

At the 45 minute mark, Ginny watched as Pansy excused herself, the woman palming at her clutch. 

Her cigarettes. 

Ginny slowly followed behind, knowing that there was only a short window of time for her to finish it. One cigarette, and one cigarette only. Ginny wondered if Pansy had any semblance of knowing it might be her last. 

Ginny watched as Pansy opened the fire door. Ten seconds later, she joined her, grasping her own cigarette and lighter in one hand. Under her skirt, a thigh holster holding a knife dug into her flesh. 

Pansy looked even more gorgeous up close. She had a beauty mark under her red stained lips, and her eyes were bright under thick lashes and sultry eyeshadow.

She looked at Ginny with a smirk. 

"Great minds think alike, hm?" She joked, eyeing Ginny's cigarettes as she took a drag at her own, clutched between her perfectly manicured fingers. Ginny smiled, hoping it looked friendly. 

"I'm only human." Ginny said lightly. Pansy smirked, her eyes glinting.

Ginny, for the first time in a long time, felt something akin to fear. 

They stood in silence, the only sounds coming from the quiet crackle of burning paper and tobacco. Ginny didn't know why it was taking her so long to just _reach under her skirt and take the knife _but Pansy was now halfway through her cigarette. She was running out of time. 

Her hand felt heavy, where it lay by her side. The smoke from her cigarette suddenly lost it's comforting burn, and she suppressed the urge to cough. 

"So." Pansy murmured casually, breaking the silence. "How are you going to do it?"

Ginny froze, the fingers that had been inching towards the holster stilled. "Do what?"

"Don't be cute, darling. How are you going to kill me?" 

Ginny's mind raced suddenly, reeling too quickly for her to formulate calculated decisions. Pansy knew._ She knew. _This was not in the plan, and in her head, Ginny tracked back on every single thing she did in the past few days that would've led to her being caught for the first time in her career. 

"Don't worry, Miss Ginevra." Pansy muttered, stepping closer to her. "I just want to know. Poison? Asphyxiation?"

"A clean cut to the femoral artery." Ginny uttered. "You would have bled out in under a minute. It's my specialty."

"Nice." Pansy hummed. "I would barely have felt it."

Ginny's heart pounded. 

"How did you know?" Ginny whispered dumbly. 

She'd never been caught before. It didn't feel pleasant. 

"Do you think my family runs one of the largest drug rings in the world and not know that people are out for my blood?" Pansy laughed, but it was cruel, like nails on a chalkboard to Ginny's ears. "Miss Ginevra, please. I am very well aware of your intelligence. Do not underestimate mine."

"It's Ginny." She blurted irritatedly. Her mouth was running from nerves. "_Don't_ call me Ginevra."

Pansy's mouth curled into a smile, and Ginny hated how that made her feel warm, the temperature not fully accredited to the sticky summer night. 

"Only if you call me Pansy, darling." She replied smoothly. She dropped her cigarette to the cement floor of the smoking ground and crushed it with the platform of her heels. "I'll be leaving now. I'd like to see you again though, yes? The same cafe that you watched me at two days ago, tomorrow at 10 AM. Let's _chat._"

She opened the door before looking over her shoulder, grinning. Ginny was sorely reminded of the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. 

"I'll look forward to seeing you then, _Ginny._"

Ginny hated how she watched her go, a flash of her hips swaying seductively before the door slammed. She pulled a burner phone from her clutch, swearing when she noticed how her hands shook. 

She dialled the number, holding the phone to her ear. 

"_Harry_." She hissed. "_We have a problem."_

* * *

Harry had not been upset, Ginny was relieved to find out, but he'd been slightly disappointed that his employee and _friend_ had lost her 100% success rate. 

"Now, don't fret." He said lightly. "You might have another go at it. I'll ask the higher ups if they want you to continue to pursue it or if they'll send someone else. Until then, stay put. Don't make further contact with the target. Call you later, take care, Gin."

Ginny had gone back to the apartment furiously, slumping onto the bed unceremoniously before cracking open the bottle of wine she kept for after she'd executed the kill. Except this time she hadn't. Which was all the more reason for her to drink, she guessed. It wasn't long till she was buzzed, lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling, willing for her eyes to shut and to drift into a dreamless slumber. 

How could she sleep, with the events that went down? She set her alarm for 8AM. 

Not that she was going to meet Pansy, of course. Ginny was just keeping her options open. That was all. 

When she finally drifted to sleep, sometime in the very early morning, her decision had already been made.

* * *

Ginny had tried convincing herself out of it. While she had gotten a shower and did her makeup and combed her hair, she told herself she wasn't going to do it. When she slipped on the lacy blue underwear she normally kept for _special _occasions, she told herself she wasn't going to do it. When she put on the green satin slip dress, one that her friend Hermione had once said she looked good in, she told herself she wasn't going to do it. When she opted for the chunky platform boots over her practical combat ones, she told herself she wasn't going to do it. When she walked out the door and onto the street, shoving her wide rimmed sunglasses up her nose and taming her hair with the other hand, she told herself she wasn't going to do it. When she found herself outside the cafe, biting her lip nervously, she tried to talk herself out of it one more time. 

As soon as she stepped in, 10 AM on the dot, she felt like it was inevitable, that no matter how much she tried to convince herself, she was going to do it anyways. That's the Ginny she had been before she got into her current career. Impulsive, _reckless. _It felt a bit liberating, a dark corner of her mind acknowledged, that she wasn't following an instruction, that she was _Ginny Weasley, _a _person, _and not Ginny Weasley, the hitman. 

Her eyes pinpointed Pansy's placement instantly, in the same table in the same courtyard like she'd promised. She didn't have a book with her this time, just her cigarette and Long Island iced tea. She wore a white pencil skirt and a blue shirt with a sweetheart neckline and puffed shoulders. Her red tinted sunglasses were swapped out for red rimmed, heart shaped glasses and Ginny _almost_ rolled her eyes just to be contrary but didn't.

Pansy met her eyes as she walked over, and Ginny felt something like thrill tingle up her spine as Pansy delicately took off her glasses and indiscreetly raked her eyes up and down Ginny's body, taking her in from the top of her crimson hair to the toes of her platform boots.

"You came." She said simply, gesturing at the free seat in front of her. Ginny sat down carefully, inspecting the seat and table space first. 

"You told me to." Ginny said quietly, and felt irritated at how _vulnerable _she sounded. "So, what did you want to _chat _about?" 

Pansy pressed her cigarette into the ashtray on the table before lacing her fingers together, looking exactly like the intimidating businesswoman Ginny had been warned about. "I wanted to see you again."

Ginny snorted uncermoniously, before waving a waiter over. "Mojito, please. Strong." And after he left, Ginny returned her attention to Pansy. "You wanted to _see me again?_"

Pansy nodded.

"I'm trying to assassinate you." Ginny said slowly. 

Pansy chuckled, a tinkling noise. "No you're not, sweetheart. You don't have your knives with you, and I would have been dead by now had you slipped something into my drink. Besides, not your type, a public kill, no?"

Ginny tensed. "What would you know about my type?"

Pansy sipped slowly at her tea, and Ginny frustratedly tried to ignore how her lip gloss stayed perfect, and how it made her lips look rounder and fuller and _enticing. _"Well, _Ginny, _you've done your homework about me, and I've studied _you._"

"How do you mean?"

"Well." Pansy leaned back, surveying Ginny. "I'm not as stupid as the rest of your victims, darling. They think that their power and money will protect them, when it'll just make them more vulnerable. Like Cornelius Fudge, yes? Killed him in the sight of nobody in a men's bathroom? And Cho Chang, the poor thing murdered in the privacy of her own bedroom. Like I said- you're the private type."

Ginny snarled. "How do you know so much?"

"I refuse to die because I was silly enough to believe I'm safe." She said simply. "I've formed the right alliances to keep myself well informed of my circumstances, Miss Ginevra Molly Weasley. It's a man's world- I've never been protected, especially in my-ah- _field of work_."

Ginny mournfully realised that she could toast to that. 

"So why did you want to meet, Pansy?" Ginny secretly relished the way the name rolled off her tongue, feeling like a nine year old who said a dirty word for the first time. 

Pansy clicked her nails on the table. "I wanted to see you again,_mon cherie_. You're the most interesting person who's tried to kill me."

Ginny bristled at the pet name. "Interesting?"

"Yes. And nicest to look at, as well." Pansy winked over her tea. "You're fascinating. Out of the nine attempts on my life, you're the only woman, and the one that's gotten the closest. You could've finished me off, last night."

Ginny scowled. "You wouldn't have let me."

Pansy tutted. "You don't know the extent of what I'd let you do to me, darling."

Ginny felt a flush creep up the nape of her neck. So _that's _how it was. 

She vaguely remembered Harry's words. __

_"Don't make further contact with the target."_

She was alarmed at how little she cared. 

"You're going to try to kill me." Ginny murmured into her mojito. Pansy smirked. 

"That'd be such a waste of a pretty face." Pansy leaned forward. "Think of it as a negotiation. My life in exchange for something. I'm quite aware of your abilities- you'd be able to kill me easily and I'd be helpless."

Ginny hummed, her nerves singing with excitement. "Pansy Parkinson, are you trying to seduce me?"

Pansy _giggled. _

"I don't know, sweetheart. Is it working?"

Ginny stood up, chugging the rest of her mojito unfashionably. 

"Why don't we continue these negotiations at my apartment?" She said innocently, schooling her features into one of neutrality, attempting to hide the way her heart was thrumming and the heat in her stomach. "I have nice wine."

She held her hand out, to help Pansy up. She didn't expect the woman to lace her fingers with her. 

"It'd be my pleasure." Pansy smiled wolfishly.


End file.
